Page 37 of Crossed Paths
“Two boards and chips,” he says, nudging them toward the edge of the counter. “Mind the chutney. It’s running today.”
“Great. Nothing like rogue chutney to keep me on my toes.”
He doesn’t laugh. He rarely does. He’s already back to prepping the next round, muttering under his breath.
I slide my fingers under the first board, balancing the second carefully along my forearm, then lift the bowl of cheesy chips in my free hand.
The heat of the dish seeps into my palm, the scent of rosemary salt and mature cheddar already trying to seduce me.
I nudge the door open with my hip and step out into the pub.
Before I make it three full steps, Hunter appears beside me, like he’s been waiting just out of sight.
“Here,” he says, voice low.
He reaches for the board balanced along my forearm. His fingers brush my skin, just a whisper of contact, but it’s enough. Enough to make heat curl up the back of my neck and scatter my thoughts like startled birds.
By the time I glance at him, he’s already looking away, casual as you like.
Of course he is.
We move through the pub together, weaving between tables, dodging coats draped over chairs, trailing the smell of melted cheese and warm bread behind us.
Nancy’s table is tucked by the fireplace, right under the old map of Yorkshire that someone once graffitied with a biro moustache over Harrogate. She’s talking animatedly, full of hand gestures and smiles. Luke, who’s beside her,can’t take his eyes of her. Yeah, those two are definitely the couple of the moment. The whole village is gossiping about it.
I set the board down in front of Nancy, then place the cheesy chips in the middle for sharing. Hunter, without missing a beat, sets the other board in front of Luke, everything neat and effortless.
Nancy gives the spread a once-over, eyes lighting up. “Now that looks wicked!”
Her smile spreads as she leans in for a better look. “I knew you’d make it good, but this—this is cracking. Look at that chutney. And that Scotch Egg has a runny yolk! OMG, is that Applewood?”
I nod, suddenly aware of the heat in my cheeks and it is no longer from the heat in the kitchen. “Aye. And blue Wensleydale in the corner. So don’t say I don’t spoil you.”
She hums her approval, already reaching for a slice of bread. “Proper job, this. I’ll be telling everyone to come hungry next week.”
Luke’s reaching for a chip. “Looks amazing!”
Then Nancy shifts her attention to Hunter, tilting her head just enough to make it look casual. “You enjoyed the walk, then?
Hunter gives a small smile. “Yeah, it was great. Proper blowout for the brain.” Then, with a slight grimace, “I’ve got a full house at the hotel next weekend though—wedding party. And the week after’s some corporate retreat, so I’m out for the next two walks.”
Nancy makes a sympathetic noise. “Shame. They’ll miss your help with the stiles.”
He chuckles, then tilts his head. “Though… I’m not sure I’ll miss Bernard.”
At that, Luke chokes on a piece of cheese mid-bite. He coughs once, twice, eyes watering as he grabs his pint and takes a long sip.
When he finally recovers, he thumps his chest and says hoarsely, “That dog’s a menace.”
Nancy giggles. “He’s just… expressive.”
“He farteduphill,” Luke says. “I’ve never respected an animal and feared it so equally.”
Nancy shudders, setting down her knife. “Right, that’s enough chat about toxic gas while I’m trying to enjoy a good bit of Wensleydale.”
I bite back a grin. “Fair point. I’ll let you get back to it. Enjoy.”
“Don’t worry, we will,” Nancy says, already reaching for a pickled walnut.
